The Truth About The Wheel Of Time On Prime
Fans of The Wheel of Time TV show recently got the news they’d been dreading—but sort of expecting: Amazon won’t be renewing it for a fourth season.
At first glance, the cancellation feels harsh. Season 1 was, let’s be honest, a bit of a mess—uneven pacing, dodgy writing, and a finale that raised more eyebrows than hopes. But Season 2 showed glimpses of real promise (Episodes 3 and 6, anyone?). Then Season 3 arrived and finally… finally the show hit its stride. The Emond’s Field Five began to shine as the core of the story, much like the Stark kids in Game of Thrones, who took a couple of seasons to truly take centre stage. Season 3 also stayed much closer to the books, and several episodes were genuinely breathtaking.
But the show still had its issues—and its fair share of detractors. And that, ultimately, is what led to its demise.
First, cards on the table: I was a fan. Season 1 was barely watchable, yes, but I saw glimmers of something worth sticking with. Season 2 convinced me that the show could be great—Egwene’s captivity arc in particular felt like real Wheel of Time. I genuinely liked that season. But Season 3? That was special. It was the most I’d enjoyed fantasy TV since the peak of Game of Thrones. I didn’t want the show to be cancelled, and I tried to support it however I could—spreading the word, watching it twice, dragging my friends in. Sadly, it wasn’t enough.
And that’s really what it comes down to: not enough people watched it. Simple as that.
It might seem strange given the buzz Season 3 generated. Critics were onboard (Rotten Tomatoes score was strong), the press finally noticed, and Amazon even rolled out a decent ad campaign. The show cracked the Nielsen Top 10 for 20 weeks—no small feat. But compared to other shows of similar genre and budget, The Wheel of Time just didn’t pull the numbers.
Some have speculated that the cancellation came down to budget, studio disagreements, or a general shift in streaming priorities. Maybe. But at the end of the day, those things only matter if a show’s audience justifies the investment. And sadly, WoT couldn’t keep up—not even with Prime’s own offerings.
I never expected Wheel of Time to be the next Game of Thrones. Thrones had the advantage of feeling grounded early on—more medieval politics than magic—and the show leaned even harder into that, essentially becoming historical fiction with dragons. Wheel of Time, on the other hand, is unapologetically high fantasy. There’s no way to “tone it down.” It was always going to be a show for genre fans first—and that’s where the cracks began to show.
The fandom split. Badly. When you’re making a show for a niche—albeit a large one—you need your core fanbase to be ride or die. The kind of people who shout about the show on Reddit, convert co-workers, and force their partners to watch “just one more episode.” But WoT lost a big chunk of its loyalists early, and that hurt. Badly.
Ask different fans what turned them off and you’ll get different answers. Some had minor gripes, others had major ones. Most weren’t taken out by one issue, but rather worn down by a series of frustrations—death by a thousand cuts.
When the show launched, it broke Prime’s records for new releases. That’s the kind of launch Amazon dreams about. But the numbers didn’t last. If they had, we’d be gearing up for Season 4.
So what went wrong?
Well, maybe too much changed. I sympathize with the writers—Wheel of Time famously drags in the middle, and every fan has their own opinion about where “the slog” begins. But the early books are beloved, and sweeping changes out of the gate made many fans feel like this wasn’t the story they loved.
Then there was representation. The books had subtle queer themes throughout, and the show chose to bring those to the forefront. For some fans, this was a welcome expansion. For others, it felt like agenda-pushing. I personally didn’t mind most of it—though I was curious how it would affect certain later storylines, like Moiraine and Thom.
Character adaptation was another mixed bag. Moiraine? Brilliantly done. But Rand? He was sidelined repeatedly in Seasons 1 and 2, and the key moments that should have defined him were given to other characters. I give Season 1 a pass—Covid, reshoots, actor departures, etc.—but Falme in Book 2 is where Rand becomes Rand. The swordmaster. The Dragon Reborn. They dropped the ball there, and it cost them fan goodwill.
And while main characters sometimes struggled to get screen time, side characters seemed to thrive. Maksim, for example, became a talking point—not for his performance (which was fine), but for how much screen time he got compared to the main cast. The social media backlash against Taylor Napier was uncalled for (he’s far from the first actor to get a role through a relationship), but the narrative imbalance was still an issue.
Of course, not everything was in the writers' control. Covid shutdowns wrecked Season 1. Actor exits made things messier. Season 2 was rocked by the writers' strike. No surprise, then, that Season 3—finally free of all that—was the best.
And so here we are. The show had problems. Fans had complaints. Some I agreed with, others I didn’t. But the truth remains: not enough people watched, and a big part of that is because a large section of the core fanbase walked away.
The showrunners took big risks. Some paid off. Many didn’t. I respect the monumental task of condensing 14 books into 8 seasons. But in the end, the changes were too big, the pushes too hard, the sacrifices too many, and in the end, the Wheel weave as the Wheel wills.
Does it hurt, absolutely! We will likely never get another attempt at a Wheel of Time show, and so like a wound that won’t heal, we will need to sit with what could have been until the Wheel spins us out again.
Still, I’m grateful. For the great performances. For the breathtaking moments (looking at you, Season 3, Episode 4). And for the bold attempt to bring a beloved, complex, incredibly weird fantasy series to life on screen.
